


the red striped scarf

by mirkwood131



Series: EXO Central [45]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Pianist Byun Baekhyun, Romance, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 23:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirkwood131/pseuds/mirkwood131
Summary: Baekhyun took the same seat he always did in the train. That one time, there was a note on the window sill: "Your smile makes my heart flutter…"





	the red striped scarf

**Author's Note:**

> my roommate is a pianist, so i get to hear him playing day and night, which isn't as annoying as i expected. anyways, that's how i thought about making baek a pianist too.  
> quite like the base idea for this fic, even though halfway through it i've realized that i read a book with the exact same concept, but with a different approach.  
> hope you'll enjoy:)

Baekhyun sat down on his usual seat, the one right next to the window. On the black, thin, sill there was a folded, blue paper. He picked it up, turning it on each side before he unfolded it.

 

_Your smile makes my heart flutter…_

_Doesn’t that sound so cheesy? But it’s the truth._

_It truly does._

Baekhyun smiled, looking around. But there was no one there, except for an old lady, on the opposite seat, knitting something resembling a red scarf.

It had been months since he had been taking the same train at the end of each week and every Sunday, back into the town. There were many familiar faces, regulars, just like him. He didn’t know any by name, nobody did, but every time, there was a quiet acknowledgement between them.

After a couple more minutes, the train stopped, and a long strip of people entered, a man with a big suitcase taking the seat next to him.

Maybe the note wasn’t for him, how could it have been? Someone most have forgotten it there.

Only a coincidence.

 

Next Friday, after he sat down, he looked around. There were more people than before, new faces. On the window sill, another blue note, folded in four. He opened it with a smile:

 

_I am not good with written words nor with talking to people. Actually, I’m better with words, but nobody ever told me that, so I cannot be sure._

_Terrible combination, isn’t it?_

_When you touch your lips, after you smile, I like it._

_Is this creepy?_

Baekhyun laughed, folding back the note and glanced up. But no one was looking back at him. The same old lady, knitting her scarf, and girl with green headphones on, her head leaning on the foggy window. In the far back, there was a guy wearing a pair of thick framed glasses, reading a book. Who could it have been?

Baekhyun opened his backpack and ripped a paper from a brown notebook.

 

_If that hadn’t been for me, I would feel extremely awkward._

_But it is not creepy, not for me. I’m not good with words either, as you can see._

_Nobody told me that they like my smile. I’m usually the loud on, so it’s just annoying._

He folded it and placed it back on the sill. Would that person find it, read it? Were those really meant for him?

 

Next Friday, when he stepped inside the train, his heart was beating faster as he kept thinking about the notes. What if there would be none and the sender had only tried to mock him? Or worse, they had been for somebody else all along?

A blue one.

Baekhyun smiled and sat down, unfolding it with trembling fingers; the paper was sliding between them, until a sharp pain began throbbing in his index. A cut. The thin strip of blood had stained a corner of the note in the shape of an asymmetric heart.

 

_I’m glad._

_Now I suppose you know those were for you. It is almost like writing letters, isn’t it? But shorter and with a high probability of being found by somebody else and then thrown away. Only the thought of them being read makes me feel embarrassed and even more concerned with what I write._

_But I will take the risk for you._

_People say that I am not loud, but quiet. Maybe I am louder in these._

Baekhyun put the note in his backpack next to the other two. Someone sat next to him. In front of him there was a girl, with long blonde hair and red lipstick on her lips. She looked at him for a moment and he had the impression that she smiled at him.

On the other side, he saw a man, a boy, he wasn’t sure, with thick framed glasses and a short cut, with a book opened on his lap; his eyes were closed and head leaning against the window.

He ripped another paper and wrote:

 

_Once, I found my mother’s letters from my father hidden in a shoe box. I read a couple of them but then I felt embarrassed. It was too personal so I stopped._

_Is this almost the same even though I don’t know your face or the sound of your voice? Maybe that makes everything even better. I’m beginning to become cheesy as you said in the first letter. Can I call it that way? My handwriting is terrible, I hope you can understand what I write._

_Give me one clue about yourself, if you want to._

 

On Sunday, his usual seat was occupied by somebody else. The same girl with blonde hair and red lipstick; that time, her lips were light pink. He stopped between the seats and looked at her. Was she the sender? On the window sill there was again the same blue note.

“Excuse me…” he said.

“Yes?”

“I forgot that note over there…”

She looked up at him and didn’t do anything for a couple of seconds. Then, she took it and gave it to him. “Sure.”

Baekhyun sat on the other side, face to face with the guy with the thick framed glasses, sleeping once again. He opened the paper and read with a smile that was growing wider and wider:

 

_One clue…hmm. I am not sure what that could be. To be fair, I look like an ordinary person, there’s nothing that makes me stand out from the crowd. You could even call me boring. I have brown eyes, would that help?_

_Usually, I have a book with me to read._

_The last one that I read was Norwegian Wood by Murakami. Did you read it? I don’t know how to feel about it. A part of me hates it but another part despises even more the fact that I empathized so much with the characters. It woke something inside of me even though I didn’t like the protagonist. But I saw myself in his friend, Nagasawa._

Baekhyun sighed and opened his phone. He searched for the book for a while. Then, he ripped another paper and started writing:

 

_I didn’t read it but I will now, while I’m on the train. Your clue isn’t very helpful, is it? There are so many people around, reading. At least tell me, are you a man or a woman?_

_I can’t even remember the last book that I read, to be honest. On the other hand, I love music. I am going to a music university, but I don’t have much hope about it. Who would have, right? I am pessimistic to begin with, as you cannot do much with a music degree. Being a teacher isn’t something that I want but it seems like it is the only future that lays before me._

_Funny that I haven’t shared that with anybody else before._

Baekhyun looked up from his paper at the stranger in front of him who had just woken up.

“Are we in Birmingham?”

“Not yet. I’ve seen you on the train before.” Baekhyun said, looking at the way the other closed the book and placed it in a black backpack, not before dropping it on the ground, upside down.

“I commute.” the stranger said. “You?”

“I come here for university.”

“Work.” he smiled. “I’m Kyungsoo.”

“Baekhyun.”

“I read that name once in an article. But the person is somewhere in Korea, a celebrity.” he laughed, placing his cheek on the palm of his hand.

Baekhyun laughed, biting the corner of his lower lip.

“Well, I’m far away from it.”

“What’s with the notes?” Kyungsoo asked, pointing towards the pieces of paper in his lap.

“Oh…those.” Baekhyun blushed, turning it on all sides. “I keep finding them…there.” he pointed towards his usual seat.

“Are they for you?”

“I think so.”

“Romantic then. Your girlfriend must-“

“I don’t know who puts them there.”

“The train will arrive in Birmingham in 5 minutes.” the voice from the speakers said.

“That’s my stop.” Kyungsoo said.

“Mine too.”

“Then we could grab a coffee. If you are not in a hurry, of course.” he laughed, glancing down and then back up at Baekhyun’s face.

“I’m not. Coffee sounds great.”

They chose a small café near the train station, with turquoise seats and vanilla scented candles placed in the middle of them. It was the beginning of fall, and at their feet, the leaves were gathering in piles, looking like dried out hands trying to grab their shoes whenever the wind would blow.

“It’s pretty here.” Baekhyun said.

“I come here often.” Kyungsoo said.

“Really?”

“Yeah…it’s quiet and I can write.”

“Are you a writer?” Baekhyun asked, placing his chin on his hands.

Kyungsoo nodded, smiling as the waiter placed the menu in front of them.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll get a hot chocolate.” Kyungsoo said.

“Me too.”

“I write from time to time.” he said. “But I also work for an online publication and I write the blog for a YouTube celebrity.”

“That’s so cool.” Baekhyun said.

“Is it?”

“Of course. Much cooler than working in a supermarket.”

“But didn’t you say-“

“I also go to university. For music, but I need to make some money.”

“It suits you.” Kyungsoo smiled.

The waiter placed the two, white mugs on the table. He placed both hands around it and took a sip from it.

“This might sound weird, but you have the fingers of a pianist.”

Baekhyun laughed, glancing at the flame of the candle, which seemed to be floating in the glass.

“I am a pianist, actually. Among other things and instruments.”

 

Baekhyun found another blue note on the window sill; he took it before he sat in front of Kyungsoo who had two coffees on the small table in between their seats.

“I thought…” he said, pushing one of them towards him.

“Thanks.” Baekhyun smiled.

He read the note rapidly:

 

_I am a man. Is that an inconvenience for you?_

_I don’t really know you but I think that music suits you. Don’t you think? I might be cheesy once again, but if you follow your passion, everything will be alright in the end, won’t it?_

_I’m not sure whether or not that works for me. Usually, I’m a pessimist, like you said you are. Now I am fully smiling, thinking about you playing an instrument. I would love to see you play the violin or piano._

Baekhyun smiled.

“Is it good?”

“It’s…makes me feel a little better.” he said, placing it in his pocket.

Baekhyun sipped from the coffee. Not too sweet, with milk, but strong enough to wake him up.

“This is great.”

“I…it’s my usual order.” Kyungsoo said. “Uhm…on Monday I’m going to that YouTuber’s launch party. Would you like to come with me?”

“Me?” Baekhyun laughed. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Kyungsoo smiled. “If you could give me your phone number…to text you the details.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Baekhyun wrote the note in a hurry, before getting out of the train.

 

_Then I have less possibilities to search through. I need to find a man reading a book on the same train with me. Still hard. Give me another clue. Please. I want to meet you, even though maybe I’m too pushy and you don’t want that._

_I can understand it. Or at least I’ll try to. But at some point, just talking with you through these won’t be enough for me. I don’t know about you._

_But a part of me hopes it’s the same for you too :))_

Baekhyun looked at himself one more time in the mirror. A knock at the door. He opened it. Kyungsoo was there, in a white shirt and black slacks, with black shoes and a rose in one hand.

“Is it too much?” he asked, shifting from one foot to another.

“No.” Baekhyun smiled.

He took the rose and smelled it. Sweet and powdery, soft to the touch.

“I’m ready.”

Kyungsoo smiled and Baekhyun closed the door. The night was warm, the same leaves crinkling on the asphalt, as their thin bodies crumbled at each touch. They didn’t arrive at the party. Somewhere along the way, they stopped on a bench in a park where the stars were glittering on the sky.

Baekhyun sat on the cool grass after a while and Kyungsoo followed him.

“Have you written anything new?” he asked.

“I could show you, if you want. Nobody reads them but…I could need a first reader.” Kyungsoo said and sat on his back. “That’s Cassiopeia.” he pointed.

“I can’t see it.” Baekhyun laughed, getting closer to him. “Could you turn me into one of your characters?”

“Would you like that?”

“Depends how you write me.” he laughed.

“Well…usually, I don’t write the characters, but they write themselves. It sounds stupid, but they just have this power over you, like they hold the pen or the keyboard or have a gun at your head and whisper in your ear what you should write. How their story should go on. What they want, who they want. Stuff like that.” Kyungsoo said, looking at him.

“That’s with my music too. When I start playing the piano, is like my fingers have a mind of their own and sometimes I can’t stop them. They keep going over the keys and they don’t even listen to the papers in front of me.”

“Sounds pretty much like it.” Kyungsoo laughed.

“Maybe.” Baekhyun shrugged. “I hate kids.”

“I’m indifferent.”

“It’s better. Because I hate them, I can’t become a teacher.”

“Once I had a teacher that hated kids.” Kyungsoo said.

“And…”

“He was good at explaining but bad at being warm towards us. But it didn’t matter. He was doing his job well.”

“But if you don’t like children, why would you keep torturing yourself doing that? You’ll end up hating them even more.” Baekhyun said.

“Who knows? He had no other choice?”

“Well, someday I’ll make soundtracks for movies and people will cry hearing them.”

“Cry?” Kyungsoo laughed.

“Or laugh. But feel something, anyways.”

“I like when people laugh or cry when they read my stuff. That’s the best part. Except that blogposts aren’t that deep.”

“Pity we didn’t go to the launch party…”

“Why?”

“I’m kind of hungry.” Baekhyun laughed.

“Come on.” Kyungsoo said and grabbed his hand. “I know a place.”

Baekhyun kissed him that night, more than once, right after they finished eating at the small fast food. Kyungsoo had cupped his face and pulled him closer. He was warm and smelled like cologne and a bit of sweat.

His lips were soft and plump, gliding over his as his tongue was gently brushing against his teeth.

“I’m a terrible kisser.” Kyungsoo said.

“Did you ask me what I think?”

“No…”

“Well, you are horrible.” he said, and kissed him again, right behind a shop, tangling his fingers in his hair as the kiss was spreading warmth all over his body, down to his belly.

 

He found another note in the train next Friday. That time, Kyungsoo couldn’t come with him. He had a meeting to that day.

 

_You are not pushy. If you were, I wouldn’t be sending you these messages. Trust me, I want to meet you too._

_Today I ate the best pizza in my whole entire life. And I have eaten a lot of pizza, trust me. It had nothing special, really, but there was something about it or more about the place I was that made it taste so good. Had that happened to you before? I wish I could just hit a replay button and just eat and eat and eat that pizza to relieve that feeling._

_Seems like it only happens so rarely; imagine the sea with its waves, and you are standing right on the edge, smelling the salty air, filling your lungs with it when one of those waves splashes your bare feet. It’s cooling, cold even, but it opens something in you, that sensation. A lost memory, a sentiment you haven’t felt in so long._

_That was the pizza for me; a wave caught in a sea, wetting my feet and then suddenly disappearing._

_How is with your university? Are you feeling better about it? I wish I could be there to tell you that it’s no big deal if you change your mind. A lot of people do. And yes, the first sentiment is so bad that you think it cannot turn out to be alright. But it does in the end. Change isn’t so bad._

_But I think you like it. Your music degree._

_So what scares you so much about it?_

_I am scared all the time, so I am not good about giving advice to people._

Baekhyun folded it and placed it next to the rest. He took another paper and a pen and started writing on the small table:

 

_I want to be grand. To make it. To see my name everywhere. If I were to only be a teacher or a bad musician at a theater, that would crush me. Crush my ego and pride, and then I’d better live my entire life locked inside my apartment. But that scares me too. I saw once an old woman and she smelled terrible; you know, urine and dust and unwashed parts and she told me she hasn’t left the house in 5 years._

_I don’t want to end up like her either._

_But enough about me._

_What are you doing right now? Please give me another clue. I can’t wait for Sunday to read the message from you. It’s funny because now I can’t wait to be on the train and it’s all because of you. Is it too much sincerity in one message?_

He laughed when he placed the pen back into the backpack. His phone buzzed; a message from Kyungsoo that he decided to read later.

Baekhyun glanced around the train, hoping to see his stranger. But once again, the compartment was almost empty, and there were no man in it.

Sunday came at last, covered in a fine mist that kept running over the hills on its wobbly legs, breaking them and falling on the damp ground. Sometimes, it seemed to be rising from the asphalt, like an exhale from a warm mouth.

He sat down, but there was no note on the window sill. Only the foggy surface and some biscuit crumbs.

Maybe his stranger couldn’t take the train that day or somebody found the note before him and threw it in the garbage. He was tempted to search for it but stopped. The train was crowded that day. Everywhere he looked there were people that he hadn’t seen before. They were not regulars; not even the old lady, knitting.

Some were reading books but none looked like the person he had imagined from the notes. And how would he start a conversation with someone, anyways?

Kyungsoo was waiting for him in the train station, holding two chocolate donuts in his hands.

“How was the ride?”

“Boring.” he smiled, taking one from him.

It was still warm and the chocolate gooey on the inside.

“You’re my savior.”

Kyungsoo laughed, taking a bite from his donut.

“So…I have a friend that I want you to meet because I think he might help you get a better job.” Kyungsoo said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s working in a studio where they make soundtracks for movies and cartoons. He seemed interested when I told him about you.”

“Okay.” Baekhyun grinned. “Is he doing this because I’m your boyfriend?”

“I haven’t told him that you are my boyfriend.” Kyungsoo said.

“And when will you?”

“After he gives you the job so you wouldn’t be frustrated that you only got it because of me. It’s that good enough?”

Baekhyun nodded, shoving the rest of the donut in his mouth. Then, he licked each finger, one by one, until they were all clean.

“You should have bought three.” Baekhyun said.

“You are taking advantage of my kindness.” Kyungsoo laughed.

“Maybe.”

“The shop is there.” he pointed, “You can go buy one.”

“Jerk.”

Kyungsoo intertwined their fingers and waved their arms around, until they were almost reaching their heads.

“When you are sad, just do this. The stupidity of the fact just makes you laugh.”

“But I need you with me, then.” Baekhyun said.

“At all times, at your service.”

Kyungsoo’s apartment was small, with stacks of books crammed in every corner; there were even a couple on the washing machine in the bathroom.

“That’s an easy read for when I’m-“

“You’re disgusting.” Baekhyun laughed.

“Maybe.”

“Give me some pajamas.” he said, walking inside the bedroom; the walls seemed to be made entirely out of books, only some little space for the bed and the way towards the door.

On top of the closet there were four brown boxes and Baekhyun supposed those were books too.

“Don’t you get clustered in here? I would.”

“Neah. Got used to it. I didn’t just have everything here from the beginning.” he said, pacing around, “I collected them over the years. My favorites are on the night stand.”

Baekhyun touched the covers with his fingers, picking the first one up. “Never let me go.” he read.

“That’s the latest that I read.”

“I’m reading something by Murakami.” Baekhyun said.

“Really? I don’t like the guy.”

“Yet you have a record player.”

“What does it have to do with him?” Kyungsoo laughed.

“Nothing.” he said. “I’ve always wanted one.”

He crouched down next to it, and took one vinyl from the stack. “Wonderwall. I love this song.” Kyungsoo sat down, close to him and placed it on the machine.

“I also have some cassettes.”

“For a writer,” Baekhyun said, “you have a lot of music related stuff.”

Kyungsoo smiled. “I like vintage things.”

“I’m not that vintage.”

“No, you are not.” he said and kissed him on the lips.

 

He woke up in the morning, disoriented for a moment, seeing all those books surrounding him. Then he remembered he was in Kyungsoo’s bedroom.

“Chanyeol is at the studio today. We could go in the afternoon.” Kyungsoo said, kissing his cheek.

Baekhyun nodded, pulling him closer with one hand, until his chest was against his back.

“I’m working from home today.”

“I could skip classes today, then.” Baekhyun said.

“I’m boring when I write.”

“I don’t mind.”

Afternoon came quickly. He placed a kiss on Kyungsoo’s cheek as he closed the laptop with a sigh.

“Can I read something that you write?”

“Maybe.” he laughed. “Chanyeol is waiting for us at the studio.”

 

The studio was a five story glass building that had other business at different levels. Chanyeol’s was on the third.

“This is so cool.”

“Wait until you see the real deal.” Kyungsoo said.

“Heeeey!” he heard a deep voice coming from one of the rooms, before a man dressed in a white t-shirt came where they were.

Baekhyun was barely reaching his shoulder.  

“You must be Baekhyun.” he smiled.

“I’m so thr-“

“Shhh.” Chanyeol laughed, placing a finger over his lips. “Come inside.”

Baekhyun left the place grinning. He had the job; a part time one, three times a week, but there he was, closer to what he had always wished for. When the cool air of the night hit his ruddy cheeks, he thought about the notes in the train; about not receiving the last one.

His chest weighted down under that thought, all the happiness crushing a little under that realization. For some reason, he wished he could talk to his stranger and tell him the news.

“Are you happy?” Kyungsoo asked, holding his hand.

“Mhm.”

“I thought so too. I’m starving.”

“Thank you.” Baekhyun said and stopped him in the middle of the street.

He kissed him on the cheek, once, lingering over the cold skin. Kyungsoo laughed and wrapped both arms around his body.

 

That Friday he had no reason to leave home, but he did it anyways. He sat down, on his usual seat and the blue note was there.

 

_I’m sorry for not leaving one last Sunday, but I had some problems that needed to be solved. Now I’m alright._

_You’ve been smiling more recently. It makes me smile too. Like a fool and people keep staring at me, giving me weird glances. And it’s all because of you. You make me smile; happy._

_Because you make me feel the way I do, I’ll give you another clue. I wear glasses; they have thick, brown frames. I can’t see without them._

Baekhyun tapped his chin with his finger. There were a lot of men in the train wearing glasses. Too many of them that day.

He ripped another paper and as the last times, he started writing:

 

_Your clue doesn’t really help me. There are too many men wearing glasses on this train. They all look the same to me._

_I want to tell you that I have managed to find a part time job at a music production studio through a friend. It’s so exciting, don’t you think?_

_My life finally seems to be going along, better than before. The only thing that would make it even better would be meeting you. Why can’t we do that? If you are afraid that I would not like you because of your appearance or anything else, please don’t be afraid. I’m not an Adonis myself._

"What are you reading now?" Baekhyun asked, sitting on the bed next to Kyungsoo.

"The buried giant. I'm trying to go through everything from Ishiguro." he said, combing his fingers through the other's hair.

"I'll put some music."

He bent down, near the record player and started placing disks down, on the floor, from the stack that was almost as tall as him. "You have Depeche Mode." he grinned.

"Like it?"

"A lot."

"There's a couple of songs."

"And an entire album." Baekhyun said. "You even have Tchaikovsky. Only if he knew." he laughed.

Kyungsoo crawled on the bed until he was right next to Baekhyun's back. He placed a kiss on the nape of his neck and leaned over the shoulder.

"It's nice..." he whispered.

"I should write." Kyungsoo said.

Baekhyun pouted, taking hold of his hand.

"Don't be like this. You can read."

"Yeah...but I watched a very nice porn and I wanted to try some stuff with you."

"I can't do weird positions or other...weird stuff."

"It's not weird." Baekhyun laughed, wrapping both arms around his neck. "30 minutes and then you can write."

"Just 30." Kyungsoo laughed. "And then I'll give you some homework to do?"

"What...homework?" he winked, biting one of his fingers and then he kept it in his mouth, slowly sucking it.

"Read something and tell me your opinion." Kyungsoo said. "Honorific reader."

"Then it will be an honor.”

He placed his head on the bed, looking at Kyungsoo's face. "You're handsome sideways."

"Are you saying I'm not pretty normally?"

"Uhm..."

Baekhyun sat on the bed, next to him and started kissing his neck. "Your cock is pretty."

Kyungsoo pushed him and Baekhyun fell on his back, giggling.

"My cock...is not pretty. Why would you call it that, anyways? You could say big, huge, heavy-"

"Shut up!" Baekhyun laughed, kissing him on the mouth. "Let's not talk about the noodle in your pants."

"Who was the first one talking about the noodle?"

"The noodle of wrath. They should make a movie about that."

"You are gross." Kyungsoo laughed and pushed him again on the bed. "I'm writing."

"No, you are unleashing your noodle for me."

"I need to write." Kyungsoo stood up. "Your thirty minutes were up with noodle talk."

"I can't sleep over."

"Why is that so?"

"I need to rehearse some songs for my concert."

"Concert?" Kyungsoo asked, turning around.

"We do that every year. I'm on the piano." he smiled, looking at his fingers.

"Am I invited?"

"Uhm..." Baekhyun said, tapping his bottom lip with his index, "I'll think about it."

He pressed his knees over his chest and started rolling around. "I think I'm going home."

Kyungsoo sighed. "Fine."

"Are you actually pissed?" Baekhyun asked.

"No. You said you are going home so I should get you to the door."

"Wow. Okay."

He stood up and looked across the room. There were none of his things there, even though he had been wishing for a while that Kyungsoo would empty a shelf for him.

"I'm ready. To be accompanied to the door." he said and glanced back at Kyungsoo. "I'll be busy practicing these days. You can come by my faculty to see me. If you are not occupied."

"I'll think about it." Kyungsoo said and kissed him once on the lips.

"Bye."

 

The music studio had a band in that day. He wasn't doing much, mostly following Chanyeol around and looking at exactly what he was doing. That day, he was shouting orders and telling those five guys that looked like an exact low budget copy of Queens that they were out of tune.

"Why did you choose them?"

"Because...their sounds fits whatever I had in mind at the time. And the director likes it." he said, pressing and pushing some buttons.

"I have a concert in a week." Baekhyun said. "Would you like to come?"

"Yeah, sure..." the other said, shouting something into the microphone again."What about Kyungsoo?"

"He'll come too, I guess."

The band sang in a total of 35 times their song that then repeated itself like an old record in Baekhyun’s mind. He really wanted to tell somebody about that, and even though he could text Kyungsoo, he didn't want to. It would have been better to be in the train and write a note to his stranger who would understand him.

"Baek. Stop dozing off." Chanyeol said.

"Sorry. What time is it?"

"9:30. PM."

"Dear God." Baekhyun whispered, placing his head over both arms.

"Go home."

"But you-"

"It's over, your shift. Just go."

Chanyeol patted him on the back and he stood up.

"Don't forget about the concert."

Outside the building, he saw Kyungsoo, leaning on a lightning pole.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." he smiled.

"Thanks..."

"I'm sorry about last time."

"It's fine." Baekhyun said.

They were walking, side by side, their arms touching from time to time.

"You hungry?"

"I should actually go and rehearse for the show." Baekhyun said.

"This weekend we could-"

"I'm going home this weekend." he said.

"Okay..." Kyungsoo whispered.

He walked him to the apartment and stopped right on the first step of the staircase. Baekhyun sighed, placing both hands in the pockets.

"You could come upstairs. Listen to me sing."

"You sure?"

"Yeah...I'd like to." Baekhyun smiled.

Kyungsoo sat on the edge of the bed while Baekhyun took his seat in front of the piano. He stretched his body for a while, in silence.

"Come here." he said, and patted the chair. "Put your fingers on the keys and just let me do the work."

Kyungsoo did that and with just a gentle press of the keys, the music was coming out in short streams from the piano. Baekhyun's fingers were slender and warm over his and Kyungsoo closed his eyes.

"What do you think?" Baekhyun asked.

Kyungsoo didn't say anything at first but then cupped his face with both hands. He kissed him, slowly, until Baekhyun's arms came to rest around his middle, fidgeting with the shirt until he pulled it out.

"You said..."

"Rehearsals can wait..." Baekhyun whispered, undoing his belt.

His fingers were trembling, so Kyungsoo caught them into his and kisses them one by one until Baekhyun burst out into giggles.

"You are so cheesy."

"I'm a sob at heart. I cry watching rom-coms."

"I would imagine. Shocking you fuck so well."

Kyungsoo laughed and pushed him on the bed, hovering over his body. "Am I the best fuck in your life?"

"Now you are cringe." Baekhyun laughed as Kyungsoo pulled his shirt off and took a nipple into his mouth. "Okay, you are the best. Now can you please stop chewing it off?"

 

Baekhyun woke up with his head resting on Kyungsoo's arm. He was still sleeping, his chest raising and falling, and Baekhyun looked at his face, at his eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheeks.

"Morning. I forgot to do my skincare routine last night." he whispered, caressing his face.

"You have...one?"

"Yeah...come on." he grinned and pulled him out of the bed.

They stopped in front of the bathroom mirror, as Baekhyun placed a basket on the side of the sink.

"First. You wash your face." he said and poured some white liquid on his hand.

"Put some water, rub them together and then wash your face."

Kyungsoo started rubbing both hands over his face, the gel foaming until his face turned stark white. He glanced in the mirror and Baekhyun looked the same way as him. He laughed, swiping a finger across his face. Baekhyun poked his tongue at him; splattered him with water until the edge of his t-shirt was damp.

"Now, wash it off."

Kyungsoo splashed cold water over his face, looking from the corner of his eye at the other.

"Now comes the toner." Baekhyun said.

He took a cotton pad and squeezed the contents of another bottle on it.

"What does it do?"

"Neutralizes your pH level."

Baekhyun stuck his tongue out while dabbing it on Kyungsoo’s skin, going over certain areas. "Now the oil."

"Are there more steps?"

"2 more."

He dripped some oil from a small glass bottle on his palms, rubbed them together, and then pressed them over his face. "Next time we'll do a mask." Baekhyun said.

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, feeling the soft fingertips glide over his face as the bathroom was beginning to smell of powdery roses. Baekhyun's breathe was warm on his skin, sometimes disappearing and afterwards, returning even closer.

"You're done."

"I can do that too for you." Kyungsoo smiled.

"Okay. First the-"

"Toner. Then oil. Moisturizer and eye cream." he said, opening the first bottle.

Baekhyun grinned, his cheeks turning round and soft, and Kyungsoo kissed the tip of his nose.

He kissed him on the lips, at the end of it, when his entire face was shining in the artificial lightning.

"I'm hungry." Baekhyun said. "Cook me something."

 

 

He sat down on his seat in the train and looked at the window sill. There was a note there. Baekhyun smiled and unfolded it, his fingers shaking:

_I sometimes think that I should reveal who I am to you, but then it comes to me that you wouldn't like me very much when you'd see me. Somehow, I believe you picture me in a different light. I wish I were exactly like the way you want me to or these notes make me be. But I think you’d be disappointed, expecting something, someone else, and then, I wouldn’t know what to do. So a part of me doesn’t want to lose this._

_Can you understand that?_

Baekhyun breathed out and ripped another page from his notebook.

_I do. But I wouldn't. I would not be able to not like you when I am falling slowly in love with you. Sometimes I think you are the only person that can understand me._

_I can't talk to anyone else about what scares me, what I want._

_Is it so bad sometimes to keep using a person, see it suffer and just play with it as much as you like because you are not sure that you care? Maybe...but I want to meet you. See you. Touch you. I want to sort out my feelings._

_I always think about you and try to imagine how you would look and feel, how you would kiss me._

_Please, don't hesitate any further._

 

On Sunday, he didn't receive any note. But he wrote one, just in case his stranger might be in the train.

_Next Friday, I'll be sitting right here. Please come to me wearing something red. I want to meet you._

 

On Tuesday night, Baekhyun was backstage at the theater, surrounded by his classmates. He peaked through the curtains, looking at the stage, at the piano standing in the middle.

It needed to be the greatest performance of his life. Right there, in the room, there were critiques, musicians, producers, people who would be able to open doors for him.

The curtains fell, and the lights were on him as his fingers started moving across the keys. He knew the songs by heart, he could feel the chords vibrate through his bones and veins. His ears were filled the cheers of the public whenever they would stop and start another song; loud, magnificent, what he had wanted all his life.

He burst into a smile, closing his eyes.

Baekhyun looked in the crowd. He breathed in, as the last song had the ended; the clapping was getting louder and louder and people were standing up before them. Before him.

His chest filled with something he had only felt in moments like that. They all held hands and bowed until the clapping ceased. But Baekhyun didn’t want it to.

Chanyeol was right there, backstage, with Kyungsoo.

"You've surprised me?"

"Was it good or bad?" he asked.

Chanyeol laughed, looking at Kyungsoo. "I have some people who would like to talk to you."

"Really?"

He didn't look behind at Kyungsoo, increasing his pace after Chanyeol.

They ended up going to a restaurant, Baekhyun's heart beating faster and faster only at the thought that it all could seal his career. The right words and he could be playing in an orchestra in London, for thousands and thousands of people, clapping and cheering for him.

"This is the greatest night of my life."

Chanyeol laughed, and patted him on the back.

"Well, you were amazing out there."

"I haven't even exercised that much." he said.

"Bet you didn't."

"Did he actually say that after I finish university I could go and audition there?"

"Pretty much."

"One more year." he breathed in.

"One more year and you'll be in London."

"Thanks." Baekhyun said.

"It's alright. I didn't do much."

"Still..."

"I think this is your apartment, isn't it?" Chanyeol asked.

"Would you like...to come upstairs?"

"I think I better not."

"Alright. Thanks for everything."

"Anytime." Chanyeol said and hugged him.

Once inside, Baekhyun remembered Kyungsoo, forgotten somewhere backstage at the theatre.

He called, once, twice, but he didn't pick up. Baekhyun sat on the bed and suddenly, the greatness of the night was overshadowed by something.

It was right there, at the back of his mind, kicking the skull. He sat on his back and stared at the ceiling.

His phone rang and he picked it up, almost slipping from his fingers.

"Could you come over?" he asked. "Yeah, I'm home. Okay."

Kyungsoo knocked at the door minutes later. Baekhyun opened it and sighed.

"I...was supposed to give them to you at the..." he said, giving him a bouquet of red roses with a white one in the middle.

Baekhyun smelled them for a while and then looked at him.

"They are beautiful."

"You were amazing...out there." Kyungsoo said.

"Yeah...I know."

"I should go home now."

"Why?" Baekhyun asked.

"Because..."

"When I saw those people, I couldn't think about anything else. I forgot about-about the theatre and everything. You have to understand. I couldn't miss that opportunity."

"I know. I still think I should go home. I'm happy for you." Kyungsoo said.

Baekhyun grabbed his wrist when he tried to turn around. "Why are you like this?"

"You don't...I don't like to keep being in people's lives when my presence is unwanted."

"What are you talking about? You are my boyfriend." Baekhyun smiled and kissed him.

Kyungsoo pushed him away, taking a couple of steps back.

"I know you don't really like me so I won't just lie to myself that you do. I'm only making a fool out of myself."

"I do like you! I was just not thinking straight right then and I thought that you would understand what a big deal that was for me." Baekhyun whispered.

He stepped closer to him and cupped his face with both hands. Baekhyun kissed him on the lips, pushing him against the wall.

Kyungsoo moaned when his fingers took hold of his hair, pulling at his strands as with the other hand his was undoing his pants that fell down, around his ankles.

Baekhyun kneeled down in front of him.

 

In the morning, his throat was sore. But Kyungsoo was sleeping next to him, with an arm around his middle. He nuzzled at his neck, leaving small kisses down to his clavicles.

"Baek..." he whispered.

"Yeah..."

His fingers were gently brushing through his hair.

"I'll make pancakes." Baekhyun said. "And you could watch."

"Uhm...sounds tempting."

"Not more tempting than your noodle." he laughed.

"Stop calling it that."

"I think that's his name. The noodle of wrath."

"Baek..."

"I like you." he whispered and kissed him.

"Really?"

"Yeah...I only make pancakes for people I really like."

Kyungsoo laughed.

“I’m not kidding. I’m terrible at cooking, so if I’m offering to make you something to eat, it means that I really care about you.” he said. “But you can always help, of course.”

“Okay.”

 

Baekhyun sat down. There was no note. The train was packed with people and he kept looking around, his heart beating faster after a while, when they started moving away from the station, into the forest ahead. People he knew, people he had seen before, but no one seemed to be the one he was looking for.

_Where could he be?_

He opened a book, one that Kyungsoo had given him a while back and started reading; but he couldn’t focus on the words, the lines were jumping from the page.

“Can I sit here?”

Baekhyun looked up and there was Kyungsoo, holding a black backpack in his hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“My mother is sick…”

“Put it down.” he said. “You could have told me so we would have left together.”

“It was a last minute thing.” Kyungsoo said, rubbing the back of his neck.

He took his red striped scarf off and placed it around Baekhyun’s neck. “It looks cute on you.”

“Does it?”

_Now he won’t come even if he’s here._

“Have you received more notes?”

“Huh? Oh, notes…no. For a while.” Baekhyun smiled.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“No…just looking around.”

“Do you like it?” Kyungsoo asked.

“The book? It’s nice, but I don’t think it’s my style.”

“You don’t have to finish it then. I sometimes forget we don’t like the same things.” Kyungsoo said, rubbing once again the back of his neck.

He got off the train on his usual station, before Kyungsoo. The stranger hadn’t come. He couldn’t even leave a message for him. Baekhyun kicked a stone and wished he wouldn’t be there, only for someone he didn’t now.

 

Back in the city, the piano and job at Chanyeol’s studio were taking up most of his time. He was seeing less of Kyungsoo day by day, but he knew the other was occupied as well with all his writing gigs. Chanyeol was a far better company than he had hoped for.

“You know…we can make a song together if you want to.” he said one night.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? You said you can sing too, so I don’t see the problem.”

“That would be…” Baekhyun grinned. “I have some ideas already.”

“Slow it down.” Chanyeol laughed. “Let me finish with this, and then we could talk.”

Baekhyun didn’t even feel the walk back home. He called Kyungsoo and invited him over, buying some beer and chips from a store, as well as soda, the one that the other liked.

“Hey, handsome.”

“You are in a good mood.”

“Life is good.” Baekhyun said, closing the door. “Chanyeol offered to help me write a song. I even have some lyrics written down.”

“Is it about something in particular?” Kyungsoo asked.

He sat down and took one of the beers from the glass table.

“Maybe. Not sure.” Baekhyun said. “Haven’t seen your face in a while.”

Kyungsoo sipped from his beer and kept quiet as he scrolled through the movies on the TV screen.

“Been busy with some projects.” Kyungsoo said, taking another gulp.

“Secretive, I see. Wanna hear me sing something? It’s for the song.”

“Sure.” Kyungsoo shrugged.

He kept drinking the beer as Baekhyun sat in front of the piano and briefly touched the keys before he started playing something that resembled an unfinished song. “It’s not perfect or anything, but you get the point.”

Kyungsoo liked the way Baekhyun looked, slightly hunched over his piano, touching the white keys with his long fingers, sticking his tongue out sometimes; scrunching his forehead when a note was not coming out right. The way he kept tapping over his bottom lip with his index and then touching some more keys.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s quite sad.” Kyungsoo said.

“Then I’ll sing you some Bach. Or do you prefer some Tchaikovsky?”

“Tchaikovsky?”

“I knew it.” he laughed. “Valse sentimentale. Saw it between your records.”

Kyungsoo leaned down on the couch and closed his eyes. He swayed his head from one side to another, following the rhythm of the music that was at times going faster and sometimes slower, as Baekhyun’s fingers were in sync with that rhythm.

“I like this part.” Baekhyun said near the end of the song.

Kyungsoo knew it by heart already.

“Me too.” he whispered.

“I think it’s better with a violin, but I’m rather rusty.”

“Thanks.” he said and opened his eyes.

Baekhyun stopped in front of him, right between his legs, placing both hands on his shoulders.

“You’ve been thoughtful.”

Kyungsoo laughed, looking to the side as Baekhyun straddled his lap.

“Look at me.”

But Kyungsoo didn’t, focusing on a stain on the beige couch.

“Why don’t you look at me? Did I do something?”

He sighed and touched Baekhyun’s thigh.

“I think…we should take a break.”

“Why?!”

“This isn’t working out…”

“Is this just your impression or do you have some arguments, because I feel like we work out just fine.” Baekhyun said, standing up. “I’m not sure what you’d want more. I mean…if it’s one of your writer fantasies that your lover should have purple hair and do wild dances at midnight, then I can’t help you.”

“Baek…it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it? I’ve been busy recently. You’ve been busy. That worked out fine. Now we are here and you ruin everything by saying that you just want to kick it all just because. Out of principle.”

“Baek…” Kyungsoo shook his head. “It’s not out of principle. I’m not like those people that do it just because it’s too good and bullshit. I don’t think it’s that great. I mean, it’s great, but…”

“Yeah, okay.” Baekhyun sneered. “Not good enough for you, of course. The grand writer who already has it in his head how a perfect love story should be. Well, then guess what, I can’t be that.”

“I don’t think I’m what you want or need. That’s all.”

“Oh, so you read minds now, don’t you?” Baekhyun asked, bursting into a dry laughter.

“It’s not mind reading.” Kyungsoo said, standing up. “I just know.”

“If it’s not mind reading, then I have no idea what is it? Because I never knew that I don’t want you. Thank you for enlightening me. Truly.”

Baekhyun started pacing around the room, stopping from time to time to look at the other, and then continuing his walk.

“So you want me, then?”

Kyungsoo nodded. He shook his head, stopping in front of him. “I think you should go home right now and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Baek…” he said, taking his hand into his, “There’s no point. You know it.”

“Then go fuck yourself!!” Baekhyun shouted, brushing his fingers away. “Fuck off! Because you seem to know me so well, better than I know myself!”

Baekhyun drank the rest of the beer after Kyungsoo had left. He didn’t want to be alone and for some reason the only person he wanted to talk to was the stranger from the train. But where was him?

Instead, he called Chanyeol.

“Can I come over?”

He took a taxi and then he saw himself knocking at the door, holding the rest of the chips and soda in his arms.

“Fancy some?” he asked.

“What’s up?”

“Kyungsoo broke it with me and I just…need some company.”

“Oh…” Chanyeol whispered, closing the door.

“Nice…place.”

“Kind of clustered. “

“Cozy.” Baekhyun laughed. “I thought about some lyrics and they always say you should write when you are miserable.”

“Good start. I’ll take a pen and some paper.” he said and disappeared in a different room.

Baekhyun paced around, looking at the various shelves, at all the photo frames on them, and then he sat down on the couch.

“So, what do you have in mind?”

“Uhm…this is embarrassing.”

“Come on, I won’t judge.” Chanyeol said.

“If I could just forget, that would be easier…that would be the first verse.”

“Okay…”

He watched it write it down and for some reason, he thought that he had seen that handwriting before. It felt familiar, in a way. The way it curved, the sharpness of the letters and the long tails of others.

“Something else?”

“Huh…what?”

“Thinking deeply, huh?”

“Are you the one writing me those notes in the train?” Baekhyun asked, looking at him.

“I…”

“Just tell me: yes or no.”

“Yes, but…”

“Then why didn’t meet me that Friday?”

“Because…things came up and then I didn’t know if it had been a good idea to see you knowing that you were with Kyungsoo.”

“Did he know?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why did you keep it as a secret for so long when you knew how much I wanted to meet you?”

“Because Kyungsoo likes you!” Chanyeol said.

He stood up and brushed both hands through his hair.

“I can’t believe it…” Baekhyun whispered. “You should have told me anyways. I just hoped for months that-that…”

Looking at Chanyeol, he couldn’t believe that he was the person, the one writing him every weekend those notes that he had been keeping hidden in his backpack. He didn’t look like the person in his mind. Chanyeol didn’t have glasses, or at least, he had never seen him wearing them. But the handwriting was the same, without a doubt.

“It’s so weird now…knowing that you know everything.” Baekhyun laughed. “I’ve never expected to see that someone or at least be so close to me this whole time.”

“That’s why I was afraid.”

But no matter how much he had tried, Baekhyun hadn’t felt that giddiness from before, when he would find the notes. Chanyeol didn’t overlap over his cut out imagine. That Chanyeol couldn’t be the same person with his stranger from the train.

He left home feeling heavier than before, as if his skin was drenched with water, dragging him down to the ground.

The piano was staring at him from the white wall and in the middle of the room. Baekhyun placed all the little blue notes on the carpet, and read them one by one. Then, it downed on him that he hadn’t asked Chanyeol to show him his; if he had kept them, after all. They could as well be thrown right in the trash.

 

_Because you make me feel the way I do, I’ll give you another clue. I wear glasses; they have thick, brown frames. I can’t see without them._

 

Baekhyun read it over and over again, trying to find the meaning behind it. Nothing was matching up with Chanyeol, at least not in his head. Maybe he had only lied or had thought about something else entirely.

 

_The last one that I read was Norwegian Wood by Murakami. Did you read it?_

Chanyeol had never talked about books. Instead, Kyungsoo had always been talking about them; having one with him all the time. Reading all of Ishiguro’s. Wearing thick, brown frames. Wearing a red striped scarf that very same Friday that he had asked the stranger to come.

Kyungsoo.

Do Kyungsoo, the guy from the train. The guy on the same route as him.

_Kyungsoo…_

He grabbed the phone but then he changed his mind. Baekhyun ran out of the door, down the stairs and took the first bus that he had seen.

_Kyungsoo…_

He knocked at the door and waited. Did it again until he heard footsteps, coming closer. It opened.

“Baek…?”

“It was you. The guy from the train. The one writing all those little message for the past couple of months. It was you and you came that day wearing something red and I didn’t even think that it could be you. It didn’t even cross my mind. I-I…It’s you…”

“Yeah…” he smiled.

“All along…but then, why is it Chanyeol’s writing on them? Not yours…?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, laughing.

“Because…he came up with the idea. He was writing and I was dictating…I saw you months ago and I kept telling him about you and he just told me that if I don’t want to talk to you, I could just…write some messages.”

“But why…”

“And then I actually talked to you but…I didn’t stop because the Baekhyun from the notes was…different from the one I would actually see. You-you liked that Kyungsoo better. I knew you’d imagine that I were somebody else and that’s why I just…I hoped you’d figure it out, but you didn’t.”

“I’m so stupid, so stupid.” Baekhyun said. “I…I fell in love with you. It’s just you. I’ve only loved you all this time and I…you…”

Kyungsoo laughed again, glancing down.

“You don’t love this…me. You love the imaginary Do Kyungsoo, the one you pictured in your head. It’s so ironic, isn’t it?”

“Kyungsoo…” Baekhyun whispered, stepping inside the apartment, and closing the door after. “I love you. There’s nobody else. If I knew…If only I knew that you two were the same person all this time we wouldn’t have fought or-”

“But that’s the problem. You don’t love this-“he waved his arms around in the air, “the entire me. You only love a part, the part that was writing those. The part of me that wasn’t tired or angry or a failure or quiet or-“

“Just shut up. That you wasn’t perfect either. I don’t need you to be perfect.”

“You couldn’t figure it out these past 3 months that it was me. Seeing me almost every day. You couldn’t. Doesn’t it say enough?”

“No! Now that I know that you two are the same person I…”

“You love the one writing the notes, not me.” Kyungsoo said.

“Don’t be silly.” Baekhyun said, cupping his face.

He kissed him on the lips and pushed him on the couch, straddling his lap.

“Baek…”

“You like me, right?”

“Yeah…” he whispered and Baekhyun kissed him again, nipping his jaw, down on his neck.

“I like you too…so…”

Baekhyun looked up at him and smiled.

“Okay…” Kyungsoo said.

He brushed his hair off his forehead, and Baekhyun’s smile grew even wider.

“We can make this work, now that I know the truth…now that you know that I’ve only loved you.”

 

_-_

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are well loved:)


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